


i can play the part, babe

by aobuta



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Not Canon Compliant, Teen Beach Movie Musical, kind of out of character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22368244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aobuta/pseuds/aobuta
Summary: Nini’s a hopeless romantic that wants her first kiss to be special. Unfortunately for her, her first lead role has her in a romance with Ricky Bowen, newbie theatre student that’s just in it for the college applications.
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	1. i.

**10 WEEKS UNTIL THE PLAY.**

It’s only a kiss.

That’s what Ricky thinks as he stands quietly in the corner of the practice room, eyes avoiding whatever mess is occurring between his leading actress and the director. 

“I can’t kiss him,” the brown-haired girl insists for what seems like the third time that session, desperation clinging onto her features. 

“Nini, what’s stopping you?” is the question that escapes exasperated lips. Ms. Jenn seems to be tired of the argument, arms crossed over her chest, turning to look at the rest of the cast she’d picked out. “We’re all actors and actresses here, aren’t we?”

Nini purses her lips. “There’s not even a _kiss_ in Teen Beach Movie.” 

“That’s the beauty of directing,” the director explains, bringing her hands up, “These tweaks to the script were made before auditions started. I’m sorry, Nini, but there’s nothing that I can do about it now. We’ve already printed them off and made it official. There’s going to have to be a kiss, no matter what.”

“Ms. Jenn, I just—” she starts again, tugging at her fingers, “—I can’t kiss him.” 

Ricky doesn’t know what compels him to do what he does next—maybe it was her eyes, maybe it was the entire discussion, maybe it was him being a nice guy—but he clears his throat. 

All eyes fly to him, and he suddenly feels small despite his towering height. “What if I have, like, tape on my mouth?” he asks, a sheepish smile forming on his face. “For the practices? Like an unofficial-official kiss.” 

He brings his gaze down to the script in his hand, flipping through the pages in an embarrassed manner. Why couldn’t he have just minded his business? All that he needed was for this musical to be over with and, then, he could finally complete his extracurriculars. Kiss or no kiss, it didn’t really matter to him. So, why did he speak up?

The moment of silence lasts shorter than he expects, but he’s thankful for it. “Alright,” Ms. Jenn says, finger on her lip as if she were thinking, “I’m perfectly fine with that. Having a cover on your mouth will prevent you from fully kissing Nini until the play. Nini?” The look of expectancy comes from nearly everyone in the room, all wanting everything to be settled on their first day of practice.

“Okay,” Nini finally states, clearly unhappy with the situation, but obliging for those uninvolved.

“We won’t be rehearsing that scene today, but I hope that it’ll remain fine with both of you when we do. Don’t count on our next practice to not involve it.” Ms. Jenn concludes, ending all points having to do with the touchy topic. “Now, Carlos, I need you to start choreography A.S.A.P.” 

Carlos blinks, rushing to her side when she beckons him over. “Of course, Ms. Jenn! Alright, that means I'm going to need all of the bikers over here. Make it fast, now.” When he gestures to the side, he catches Nini’s eye, giving her an apologetic look for what had happened. She returns a smile, albeit a bit tight-lipped on her part, with good intention. 

Rehearsal goes steady, with some of the dances needing a few hours more work. Ms. Jenn clasps her hands together at the end of it, nodding with a satisfactory expression. “That’ll be all for today, everyone! Thank you for the wonderful job. You’re all stars in my eyes. See you on Wednesday.” 

Ricky peels the tape off of his lips, which he decided to test for what was coming up in the next couple of months. It burns, just a bit, and he winces. He _really_ needed to start wearing more chapstick if this is what he signed himself up for.

\--

Nini doesn’t like this. Sure, it’s her first lead role. Three years of auditioning with back-to-back minor characters, but she never complained. She would’ve never complained if she’d ended up receiving some Biker or Surfer dancer. Hell, she wouldn’t have complained if she got Aunt Antoinette. 

So, why now? Why now did someone finally see past the numerous other talented people at East High and pick Nini Salazar-Roberts to be McKenzie Fox? It didn’t feel right to Nini. She was supposed to be a tree, a behind of a cow, a clock—just, literally _anything_ that wasn’t the lead.

“I don’t understand why, out of all people, _I_ was chosen.” 

Kourtney sits on the opposite side of Nini in the booth at Larry’s, their favorite burger joint out of the whopping three provided in the area. Her eyes narrow at her best friend’s statement, face contorting to show a look of disapproval. “You know, Nini, anyone else in your position would be _happy_ that they landed a lead role, right?”

“I know, I know—I’m sounding selfish. But, look, it’s just… I’ve auditioned for seven whole plays in my high school career and I’m suddenly a star in this one? I don’t know how to take it. Why me? And don’t even get me started on _Ricky Bowen_.” 

“I have a feeling that you’re going to get started on Ricky Bowen without any of my input.”

Nini rolls her eyes, taking a sip from her milkshake before she leans in, slightly. “I barely know this guy, alright? Never seen him interested in musicals or plays, in general, and he just walks in here like he owns the place and the _one_ time that he tries out, he gets in? There’s got to be some bias in the choices, like, there’s absolutely no way.”

“You do realize that you were chosen, too? Is it bias for you, too? 

“Ugh,” she groans in response, laying her head on the table, “well, nevermind. Maybe it’s not bias; just plain stupidity. Honestly, I’m not even sure why I’m so upset in the first place. It’s just a kiss.”

“Which is going to happen to be your first kiss. Face it, Nini: you’re sentimental. A little too sentimental for your own good, which isn’t a bad thing! Don’t get me wrong. You’re a hopeless romantic. Even if you don’t really delve into that romance stuff… You just want your firsts to be authentic and not with some curly-headed one-hit-wonder boy that you barely know in a high school play.” 

“Yeah, but… Like Ms. Jenn said, it’s acting. Any good actress would just play her part and move on.” She’s murmuring now, looking up at Kourtney with glassy eyes and a frown carved on her lips. “Look at me, whining and worrying. I’m no good actress.” 

Kourtney snickers, reaching across the table to caress her hair. “At least Ricky’s being semi-sweet about it, sacrificing himself for you.” 

Nini straightens up, mirroring the laugh. “Yeah, I guess. I appreciate that he offered to do that, even if he has to have tape on his mouth for the next nine weeks. Otherwise, I don’t know what I would’ve done…” 

“Quit?” A deadpan.

“Ha ha, very funny.” 

With a few more sips, Nini’s strawberry delight is finished. She’s chewing absently on the ends of the straw before she pulls back with a realization, looking outside the windows. “You know, we came here to study, but three hours later and I still have nothing done.”

“Here’s to productivity!” Kourtney grins, holding up her coffee cup as a cheer. “Are you finished? Let’s get out of here.” 

“Yup, it’s getting a little dark. Mamas aren't going to be too happy soon.” 

They take a second to clean their table, taking a complimentary mint from the cashier as they leave. 

“Do you think Ricky’s breath will smell nice when you guys kiss?”

“ _Kourtney_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from ROLE MODEL's play the part! 
> 
> i KNOW that teen beach movie isn't an actual stage show, but pretend it is because i actually know the Plot of it and don't have to bs anything T___T


	2. ii.

**9 WEEKS UNTIL THE PLAY.**

Ricky could technically qualify himself as a quarter-long theatre student by now. Two weeks spent practicing and then auditioning, followed by their four afterschool rehearsals leading into the second week. If he wanted, he could just drop out now and no longer have to worry about performing in front of the entire school and company. But he stays; he’s determined to become a full semester theatre student.

When the clock announces the cast’s departure, the pads of Ricky’s fingers absently press on the tape covering his mouth. Last week, on Friday, Nini had finally mustered up enough courage to press her lips against his—well, technically, against the tape. It definitely isn’t an ideal situation for both of them, but considering that the only other option consisted of doing the actual _real_ thing, it was definitely the better one.

He finds himself in front of Big Red, who had auditioned for Rascal after two years of being on tech support. Luckily for the duo, they each received the parts they had tried out for, and were more than satisfied when the lists came out. “Do we have to do this every practice?” The redheaded boy grumbles, thumb hovering over Ricky’s face in an attempt to remove the tape, quickly and safely. 

“For someone that has the easy job,” Ricky mumbles, barely coherent, “you sure do love complaining.” 

Red pulls back, arms settled across his chest in frustration. “Look, man, I love you—I swear—but why did you volunteer to do this?”

Ricky’s blank stare is the only thing that answers him, and he fumbles forward to finish the job he was going to start. It takes a few seconds, due to his best friend’s constant wincing in certain positions, but Red finally is able to take the tape off. “They really need to stop buying the Superman brand.” 

“Thanks, man. I owe you one. Or two. Or a dozen.” Ricky runs his thumb below his nose, frowning when he feels exactly how _smooth_ it was. He was never one to grow facial hair, although he _did_ have a moustache phase at one point, so he’s not exactly surprised with the lack thereof. Still, if he were to ever sink back into that seventh grade mindset, he’s positive that such a dream would be impossible leading up to the play. 

“I don’t understand how Nini’s been in theatre for three years, but hasn’t gotten her first kiss yet.” Red says, toying with the aftermath of the tape.

“Well,” Ricky starts, leaning back on the table of props, “have you had _your_ first kiss?”

A grunt is the response. 

“ _Exactly_ . I mean, I’m slightly offended that she really doesn’t want to kiss me, like, at all. She’s made that way too clear. I’m sure she has her reasons, though. _I_ just have to deal with all this tape on my lips. Do you think the drama budget covers all of this damage to my skin?”

Ricky really didn’t know that much about Nini, if he was being perfectly honest. He’d first seen her in middle school, but they never shared a class then, only a couple of glances in the hallways. He’s 97% positive that they have AP Chemistry together this year, though. But don’t take his word for it, he’s really not the best at remembering faces. And it wasn’t that Nini fell under the overlooked category of high school students, such as underachievers that really only wanted to get the hell out of East High, but Ricky just happened to fall under the category that consisted of _overachievers_ that really only wanted to graduate in a timely manner. 

With senior year slowly coming up, extracurriculars were the only thing that the boy was focusing on. He had tried sports, but his athletic capabilities seemed to limit themselves to solely skateboarding. He wasn’t weak nor was he unskilled, but he wasn’t feeling up to throwing a hoop or shooting a goal. Which lead him to after-school theatre, something he’d never imagined himself to be a part of. Sure, he wouldn’t be considered actor-material from first glance, but he had to do _something_ that would make him stand out in his applications. Academics could only go so far, and he’d already established a stable position in the top 5% when it came to them.

Red, on the other hand, was more experienced when it came to nonacademics and had convinced the boy to try out for the musical, which leads him to the exact position he stands currently. He was now officially East High’s very own Brady Knight-Shining-Board-Shorts, a separate persona from what he based the first 16 years of his life on. This was supposed to serve as a big breakout after having cooped himself in studies, classes, and—you guessed it—skateboarding for years.

And he supposes it isn’t so bad. Branching out from the norms. At least, for now, it isn’t. He sincerely hopes that it stays that way, but considering that the show must go on… There’s no promises in store.

\--

“How does it feel kissing Ricky Bowen?”

Nini’s eyes widen to a degree, surprise evident on her face as she turns her attention to Gina. The two had arranged a study date for that Wednesday, where Nini would review over her Chemistry notes while Gina focused primarily on Pre-Calc. Although neither of them were much help to the other, they could both agree that the company was nice. 

Gina was a year younger than Nini, so it was a surprise to them that they managed to hit it off as quickly as they did. Their friendship had started Gina’s freshman year, when she had auditioned for Wendy in Peter and the Starcatcher and received it shortly after. Nini, who had went for the role of Smee, was casted as Teddy and was pleasantly surprised with the lines listed under her role for that fall’s musical. From then on, practices consisted of constant banter between the pair, who had moments of learning that went both ways. 

It would be an understatement to say that the girls enjoyed that year. 

Two years later and they’re still stuck like glue, which is why Nini finds it comfortable to raise a suggestive finger at her following the remark. 

The other girl merely gives her a look, a mischievous glint shining from her gaze. “So?”

“I haven’t even kissed him…” Nini states, placing her pen down to conclude the studying for the day. She notices that her friend’s brow raises, which causes her to mirror the expression. “Kissing the tape, however, feels weird.”

“Do you think his lips would be better?”

An embarrassed flush of color fills Nini’s face, and she presses her textbook against her chest with indignation. Gina never really did have a filter when it came to impulsive thoughts. Anything that came to her mind found its way out as soon as she opened her mouth. “Don’t ask stuff like that!” Nini complains, “You’re so weird!” 

“What? I’m just curious!”

“Why don’t you kiss him to satisfy your curiosity?” She shoots a playful glare, smile playing on her lips.

Gina rolls her eyes, sinking herself further into Nini’s beanbag chair. “Unfortunately for you, _I_ actually have standards.”

“Ricky’s not that bad; don’t be mean.” Nini frowns, defending her co-actor.

“No offense to Ricky, of course. He’s just not my type. Acting skater boy that happens to excel in chemistry? I’ll pass.” 

Nini’s mouth scrunches to the side, an expression of thought processing on her face. “Do you think he’d tutor me, if I asked?”

Gina takes a second to study her face, legs extending to find a place beneath her friend’s bed. Nini used to hide under there as a kid, but as she grew up, it became harder and harder for her to fit. For now, she uses it to stuff textbooks and old binders _for safekeeping,_ or so she tells her moms. “Is this your way of saying that Ricky’s your type? Because, if so, then yes, he would.”

“I can’t worry about my grades without you thinking I have a crush, can I?”

Gina tilts her head, lips pursing before she gives a small sigh. “Face it, Nini. you’re making a 97. What could he possibly need to tutor you with?” 

“I’m making that for now,” the other corrects, “I’m sure that won’t exactly stay constant.”

From the slow smile that forms on her face, Gina isn’t exactly buying the act that her friend is giving. Instead, she crosses her arms, a slight hum eliciting from her throat. “Ask him when you actually need the help and save the flirting attempts for after-school practice, _babe_.” 

“What would I gain from flirting with him? I barely even _know_ him.” 

"Who knows? The world works wonders.” Gina does the thing with her eyes again, a teasing tone lingering on her words. “After all, you think he’s cute.”

“Appearance-wise. I’ve heard him talk maybe twice, without that tape on his mouth.” Nini holds up a finger, an attempt to silence the flamboyant personality of her friend. 

Gina raises her hands to her sides, in a sign of surrender, when she sees the pointed gaze directed at her, kicking away her math notebook in a defeated manner. “Fine, fine. You win. But if I see you in the library learning material that you’re already capable of, I told you so.”

“What do I have to do to make you trust me?”

“I’m afraid that’s just not possible—“ Gina’s interrupted by a flying pillow, tossed from Nini’s position on the bed, and aimed at her with slightly concerning precision. “—Hey, hey!”

Nini’s head comes into her line of vision, cheeky grin splitting across her cheeks as she holds up a matching pillow. “There’s more where that came from.”

“Oh, you suck.”

\--

“Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?” Ricky’s dad places a hand on his son’s shoulders, obviously concerned with the sight of Ricky slumped across the couch. 

“Nothin’,” the lump of boy murmurs, letting out a slight groan as he turns his body to greet the incoming person. “Hey, dad.”

“Are you sure? You’re not usually knocked out when I come home—Where’s Red? Did he cancel plans?”

Mike wasn’t used to seeing Ricky earlier than 6:00 pm, a direct correlation to the hours that he spent in school rehearsing and skating with Red around the block. Even before he was casted into the musical, he never really enjoyed lingering at his house, stalling at Larry’s to study or the library to take a nap on their very comfortable chairs.

“No, I canceled plans,” he says in a wheezing manner, eyes still vaguely opened. “Not having the best day right now.”

“Is there a reason?” His dad maneuvers around the living room to settle beside him, raising his legs slightly in order to prevent sitting on them. 

Ricky sits up, finally, turning his body so that he’s facing the television. When he feels his dad scoot closer to him, he lets out a small sigh, leaning to the side. “We got last week’s Chem quiz back today,” he starts, gesturing to his open binder on the coffee table, “I didn’t do so hot.”

“Aw, come on, Ricky,” his dad says, tone laced with sympathy as he wraps an arm around the boy, “does the teacher offer tutor sessions? Or do you have a classmate that can possibly help you?” 

“I don’t _need_ one, dad.” Ricky says through a frustrated breath, feeling his curls being mussed for a second before his father reaches over to look at what’s in the binder. “I mean, I just—I can do this myself. I don’t know what happened.”

Ricky was what people considered a gifted kid, the term used to define him since elementary school. He was able to get material easier than others and always managed to use his knowledge to its highest potential. Which is why this was a low blow to him. He thought he had it, especially considering that it mostly revolved around memorization. He’d aced the previous quiz, but the incoming notes for that unit were finding themselves to be troubling for him to balance with theatre. 

“Are you sure?” 

He hears a slip of paper being flipped over—safely assumes that it’s his quiz—and his eyes find themselves shutting tighter when recalling the familiar score. 

“Oh boy,” his dad whistles, shutting the binder and leaning back on the couch, grip on Ricky’s shoulder growing tighter.

“Yeah, I got this. I just need to figure things out, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.” Ricky stands up, feeling a little bit more confident about his abilities after his words. So, what? It was one bad grade. He could bring it back up. That’s what school was supposed to do: beat you down until you figured out another way to get up. He’d manage his time wiser, maybe even skip skating sessions with Red until he reviewed everything that he needed. No matter what, he was going to finish the semester with a better grade. Yeah, yeah. That’s what he was going to do. 

“I’m proud of you, nevertheless. How’s the musical coming along?” His dad changes the subject, shifting into a much lighter topic of interest.

Ricky shrugs, palms faced up, lips going lopsided. “It’s alright, I guess. There’s nothing much going on. We’ve had four practices already, though.”

“How’s Nini?”

Ricky had immediately told his father of the situation that he’d gotten himself into, which was responded to with a laugh and clap to the back. Mike thought it was hilarious, imagining his son forced to smooch adhesions in order to satisfy the girl’s needs. Still, he never directed his teases about her, acknowledging that she was a person with another life who had her own problems to deal with. Ricky followed his example, only doing what he was told to do during practices without probing. 

“She’s alright.” Another shrug. “I don’t really talk to her much outside of rehearsal. But she’s nice.”

“Don’t you have a class with her?”

Unlike Ricky, Mike had an impressive memory and remembered Nini from the open house of that year. He always paid attention to Ricky’s teachers and classmates and was the person that confirmed whether or not the girl was actually in her first period class. 

“Uh, yeah. Chem.” With the mention of the cursed subject, which only brought memories of the cursed grade, Ricky finds himself pressing his lips into a white line. 

Like he’d said before, it was _one_ bad quiz grade. Quizzes didn’t even make up a big percentage of the overall grade, anyway, so he really didn’t have to worry. He only needed his final to be an A, so anything that was confirmed for quarter grades was merely a checkpoint until the end. That was going to be his mindset from now on, especially when it came to that class. Everything else was going fine for him: Calculus seemed to be starting out alright and his online classes only required assignments that he could fit into his schedule. All that he had to think about was Chemistry. And he believed in himself. This quiz couldn’t affect his grade _that_ badly. He was just overreacting at this point.

During this internal peptalk, he feels his phone buzz, swiping down on his notifications to see what needed his attention.

_Your grade in AP Chemistry is now a 79._

His GPA was going to be in ruins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not lying when i say i don't *really* know where this is going... but that is ok. that is ok. going to go with the flow. also i had my daily stream of olivia rodrigo's the exception today so y'all should go ahead and do that for clear skin


	3. iii.

**8 WEEKS UNTIL THE PLAY.**

When the bell rings for third period, Nini packs up her stuff before walking out of the door to her AP World History class. She stands off to the side, glancing at the lockers around her. Nobody seemed to use theirs in this hall, with the lack of people crowding the area. She couldn’t relate, one of many textbooks in her arms already.

“Hey, Nini!” a voice calls for her attention, and she turns in order to see its owner.  _ Seb. _

Seb was one of her favorite people to hang around with, another underclassman that she’d befriended in their freshman play. This year, he was playing Tanner, a guarantee due to his brilliant smile.

This also meant that Nini and Seb had a lot of their own scenes to rehearse to, and he was used to texting her when it came to questions. However, he seemed to spot her in between class changes as she lingered in order to intercept Carlos for her own questions.

“Oh, hey, Seb!” she greets him, shifting her textbook to one arm to give him a small wave as he comes closer. “What’s up?”

"I’ve actually got to head to Biology right now, but I needed to ask you something,“ he says, beginning to walk forward. Nini follows suitly, noting that she had a dual-enrollment class and wasn’t subjected to the tardy policies the teachers enforced.

“Alright,” Nini’s steps fall in place beside him, attention directing to her phone as she texts a quick message to Carlos. Luckily for her, Carlos responds a second later.  _ Don’t worry,  _ she can hear his voice through the text,  _ I had to get held back for something, anyway.  _

“So, you know how I have to sing  _ Like Me _ ?” he asks, turning to her with a look of expectancy.

Oh, Nini knew. She also had her own lines in that song, based off of feminism that she had agreed with ever since she first watched it in the prime of her youth. She didn’t even really need to practice if her memory served her as well as she imagined for the actual play performance. “Yup—“

“—Well, I was wondering if you were free any day this week for us to practice lines? I know your voice is  _ amazing _ , and I want to make mine perfect.”

Nini shoots him a smile at the compliment, head dipping down into a nod at his request. “Of course! You can swing by Wednesday afternoon after practice? I can drive you to my place, if you need a ride.”

With the look that Seb gives her, Nini can practically feel his relief. He stops, arriving at the door to his next class as he reaches over to clasp her arm. “You are a life-saver, Nini. I love you so much. I’ll see you later?”

“See you, baby!” She waves him off, turning around to head to the library. She had a lot of studying to do, even if her mind was focused primarily on the play. First things first, Chemistry needed just a quick review to refresh her knowledge.

Nini didn’t think that she was  _ that _ bad in that subject, surprising herself even more when the results of her quizzes came back. Save for a few minor mistakes that she carelessly passed over, she was doing much better than sophomore Nini would have imagined whilst in Honors Chemistry. 

And she was very happy with that. Their test was coming up in about a week and a couple of days and she wanted to start the semester off on a good foot. Online Calculus was interesting enough, since she was mostly inclined to do self-study while enrolled there. If worst comes to worst, she figures that visiting Mr. Mazzara for some help wouldn’t be the end of the world. But it would definitely be close to that.

Her phone vibrates, and she glances at her lockscreen to see texts from her groupchat of friends. Kourtney was complaining about being dresscoded, resulting in sympathetic reactions from Gina. Nini smiles at the thought of it, making a mental note of how Kourtney was about to reach double-digits  _ just _ for that year alone. A new record, if she was going to keep this up.

When she arrives at the library, she holds open the door for another student heading to the same place and gets a thank you as they pass by. For the most part, the library was on the empty side, since those that had online classes for their third usually had one for their fourth, which prompts them to leave school at noon. 

Unfortunately for Nini, she wasn’t allowed to leave school early even if she didn’t have a class for the second half of the day. Her moms claimed that she would be wasting gas if she left after second and had to return for the musical hours later. Their logic made sense, and Nini really didn’t want to spend anymore money than she needed on her car, so she stayed.

She finds a table to sit at—not much trouble because of the vacancy—and drops her stuff down. Textbook after textbook is being removed from her backpack, and she sits down with a sigh after she’s gathered her materials. 

If anything, junior year was going to be responsible for a lot of her incoming back pain. It doesn’t take Nini long to get situated and ready to review. Popping in her Airpods, she picks her study playlist and sets her phone away. With a highlighter in her hand, she begins marking down the important topics that needed to be covered.

She’s in the middle of reading her Chemistry textbook when she feels a presence over her, seeing the slight shadow that they’re responsible for on the table. She looks up, fingers mindlessly placing her bookmark in place.

Ricky Bowen is the gaze that she finds following her. He gestures to her ear, noting her limited hearing, and she pauses her music to listen to him, eyes widening. “Um, Nini?” he says after she nods to acknowledge him, grip tightening on his backpack strap.

“Hiya,” she responds, squinting in confusion.

For the most part, she doesn’t see him around the school campus. Even in Chemistry, their desks are arranged in a way where there is little communication between the two, save for a glance or two that’s forgotten a second later. His demeanor is awkward, which Nini connects to their limited interactions outside of theatre, and he moves closer to drum his fingers on the table. 

“Um,” he starts again, “not to be weird or anything… but are you free any day this week? Or weekend, even?”

Nini’s taken aback by the sudden question, eyebrows knitting as she thinks of what to say back. “Free—free to do what, exactly?”

Ricky realizes the phrasing of his question a second later, eyes widening as his hands fly up in an attempt to defend himself, “No! No, not like… what you’re thinking. If you’re thinking that. Not a date or anything like that. It’s just—I don’t know how to say this—I need help. In Chemistry. You have it first period, right?”

“I have it with  _ you _ .” Her tone is matter-of-fact, which causes Ricky to reprimand himself for asking a rhetorical question without thinking. “I thought you were doing well in that class, though. What happened?”

“Don’t look at me like I’m dumb or anything, but I did really, and I mean  _ really _ , bad on our last quiz. You know, the ionic structures one?”

Nini takes a second to recall which quiz he was referring to. Her folder is inches away from her, and she opens it to pull out the paper of interest. There’s a scrawl of 96 at the top and her eyes skim the questions. “What did you make on it?” It couldn’t be  _ that  _ bad, right? Nini had merely memorized the components of the chart to receive her high score.

He swallows, and his answer comes out in a whisper. “15.”

“Oh.” Nini’s face transitions through the five stages of grief, a sense of pity filling through her body. She closes her folder with a quick movement, not wanting to bring any attention to her grade in case it were to make him feel worse.

“I’m making a C+ now,” he says, dryly, lips pursing to show that he wasn’t exactly thrilled with it.

“Oh,” she repeats, eyes finding their way to his, an apologetic expression in them. “sorry, I'm probably making it worse. So, basically, you want me to help you study?”

“Yeah, like a tutor… except just temporary. Only until we’re finished with this test.” Ricky explains, although the idea is foreign to him. He was usually in her position in these kinds of scenarios, being asked to help someone else pass what they needed. His hand finds its way to his nape, and he watches her with a nervous look as he scratches it.

She’s nodding now, thinking about the possibility of it fitting into her schedules. “Yeah, yeah, I should be free… Maybe we can head to Larry’s or my house after today’s practice? I’m busy Wednesday and Friday, so I’m not sure if you really want to go to my place in between those days.” 

"Oh, if that’s okay with you? I'll let my house know. Thank you for doing this, by the way. I tried studying by myself, but it’s hard when there’s no explanations.” Ricky says, a sideways smile on his face as he pulls his hand away from the table. 

Nini opens up her textbook to the place she’d been working on, her own smile serving as part of her reply. “See you then.” 

He takes a step back, nodding as an acknowledgement before turning around with a small exhale. As he starts walking, he takes a glance behind when he arrives at the door, keys clinking in his hands. Her attention had returned to her books, and he finds it admirable how determined she was when it came to everything in her life—School, clubs, theatre. 

He pulls his phone from his pocket, looking at the spam of texts that Red had sent in the ten minutes he was talking to Nini.  _ Coming, _ Ricky texts back,  _ Don’t get your panties in a twist. _

And then he’s off.

\--

“Everyone, calm down—excuse me, excuse me—alright! Hello, welcome back to practice,” Carlos spreads his arms in a friendly manner, grinning at the faces he’s found to be familiar over the past couple of weeks. “Ms. Jenn isn’t here right now, but she’ll show up near the end of rehearsal. For now, I’m going to be directing.”

The students take glances at each other, watching the sophomore in charge scramble through the scripts. Ms. Jenn was always in order, able to direct every movement and perfect their moments before they had to get on stage. With Carlos as her temporary replacement, they become wary. 

Carlos sees it and he puts his hands on his hips in exasperation. “Okay, I get it. I’m not a leader, but I have to step up if we want to get things done before the musical. Do you guys understand that?”

A unison of nods and positive responses answers him, and he flips through a script in order to find a specific scene. He calls the actors and actresses needed over, which leaves a handful to stay by the walls, unsure of what to do.

“Those that I haven’t called, you can rehearse lines by yourself or with someone else. Depends on the scene that you’d like to practice on. I’ll get to you after I’m finished with these people.” Carlos says, gesturing to the group that he’d picked out. 

From Ricky’s side, he can see that Carlos was wanting to rehearse the ending scene, where Brady and Mack are stuck in the tower and in need of help by the collaboration of the surfers and bikers. He takes a glance over to where Nini stands and she catches his eye, giving a sheepish smile. He holds up his script, attempting to see if she’d like to run some lines with him. When her expression brightens, he takes that as a confirmation and makes his way over to her.

“Hey,” he says, a scrunch of his mouth forming what hinted as a smile.

She mirrors his expression, placing her palms on the wooden table behind her. “Hello.”

“So, um—is there a specific scene that you want to rehearse? There’s a lot where it’s just our characters alone… Variety of sorts.”

“Um,” Nini repeats, “I’m fine with anything…? Besides, y’know…”

Ricky knows. His ears start to burn and he suddenly feels incredibly warm, embarrassed at the implication she was referring to. Even if they were able to maintain a casual conversation by themselves, Ricky felt there was an awkward air  _ because _ of the multiple kisses that stacked up over the practices.

He clears his throat, eyes fixed on the script. “Oh, yeah, of course not. I’m sure Carlos wants to… direct that, anyways. No need for us to do it if he wants to be in charge of it. It’ll be, like, redundant.”

There’s a delayed pause after his words, and Nini opens her mouth before closing it, shaking her head after an internal battle with herself. “So, let’s just, um, do the beginning lines? The very start? After the, uh, singing thing that I have to do—you know.”

“Oh, so you mean, like, before Aunt Antoinette?” Ricky asks, finding it hard to keep eye contact with the girl. It seemed that she was having the same problem, pupils darting over his face and then back to his eyes. “Yeah, um, we can… we can do that. Definitely.”

“Um, okay. You start, then?” 

Ricky’s eyes widen and he nods, more than needed, before flipping the script back to the beginning. When he finds it, he looks up, where Nini is giving him the go-ahead. “Best day ever!” He manages to croak out.

Nini lets out a laugh—Ricky hopes she was following the script and not directing it at him—“Yeah, it was pretty awesome, huh?”

“ _ Awesome? _ Surfing all day, us being together. Awesome wishes it was this awesome.” Ricky reads, emphasizing words that he had noted down.

“Yeah, it was perfect.”

“Yeah, it was.”

She hesitates. “Um, listen, Brady—”

“—Ooh, did you hear about tomorrow?” Ricky cuts her off, in accordance to the lines, yet still manages to feel slightly guilty for playing his part.

“Yeah!” Nini grins, “Can you believe they’re talking about 40-foot waves?

“There’s a  _ huge _ storm coming up from the north.”

They go back and forth like that for a while, getting more and more comfortable with each other as time passes. When they’re about finished with their duo lines, they hear a loud clapping begin to take place.

“Okay, okay.” Carlos’ voice serves as an alarm to nearly everyone, arms waving for their attention. “I need Ricky and Nini up here, now.”

Oh, brother.

Any chance of normality between the two was about to be gone the second Ricky put the tape on his mouth. 

Almost on cue, Carlos points at the designated area of props and supplies. “Ricky, go get your tape. And Nini, you go get ready.”

Nini nods, moving out of Ricky’s line of vision as he approaches the roll of tape that would serve as a barrier during their act. 

Get ready? All she had to do was stand there and look pretty. Ricky grabs a pair of scissors, a sliver of tape soon cut away from the roll. He had to do all the actual dirty work, tape and all. 

When he’s finished applying the tape, he situates himself in place, eyes following the incoming girl. She stands parallel to him, a piercing look reflecting off of her irises. When it came to acting, Nini seemed to have another side to her.

He blinks first. 

She was standing there and looking  _ incredibly _ pretty.

“Okay, we’ll just start off with the kiss scene. You guys rehearsed everything before this, right?”

Ricky lets out a noise that seemed to say “Yes,” and Carlos gives him a humorous look.

“Alright then. Thank you for the answer, Ricky. So, Nini, kiss him like you’ve done before. Nothing fancy, just a kiss and pull away.” Carlos says, recalling the words that Ms. Jenn had instructed in the previous practices.

For the amount of times that they’ve already performed this, they should be used to it. But there’s something about the intimacy of a kiss that makes it seem foreign with every rehearsal. Thus, when Nini approaches him, Ricky feels his body stiffen.

She leans forward with a great stride, making contact with the non-stick surface of the tape for one second, two seconds before moving back and looking at Carlos for validation.

He’s looking at them, chin in hand, eyes narrowing. “It’s good, but it can be  _ better _ . Try not to be so rigid, Ricky. How about you reach for her face at one point?”

Ricky shifts his attention, a prompting burn on his cheeks, as he gives a thumbs-up at the suggestion. Maybe it was for the better that he couldn’t talk—he really didn’t know what he would be able to say if the tape wasn’t there.

“Starting from the beginning: three, two, one.”

At the cue, Ricky finds his hands moving by themselves, landing softly on the sides of Nini’s face as she replays the previous kiss that had recently taken place. He swallows when she pulls away, his hands still in the air before he realizes and lets them drop.

“I like that! I actually like that a lot. Now, Nini, you’re supposed to go off stage immediately after, remember? And then, Ricky, you follow a moment later, so we can switch scenes. Let’s do all of that in one run.”

She leans in, his palms make contact with her cheeks, and then she’s gone. His hands fall slowly, more of Ricky Bowen than Brady. 

“Ricky, that was good!” Carlos says, a smile on his face as he makes a circular motion to the boy’s actions. “Gives a sort of… lingering feeling. Perfect. That’s what we need: a little bit of heartbreak.”

Nini turns back from her departure, eyebrow raising as she takes interest into the supposed improv. “Yeah, I agree.” Her eyes are studying him, but he’s not able to pinpoint the exact emotion that underlies them. She wasn’t the easiest to read, and Ricky was honestly pretty good at reading people.

Ricky shoves his hands into his pockets, a lopsided smile forming behind the tape on his mouth. He almost says “thank you,” but remembers that any form of communication in his current position would serve no good. Instead, he silently grins, waiting for his best friend to arrive and save him.

“Seb and Gina, places!” Carlos’ voice rings in his thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is basically like 2x the word count of the 1st two chapters and maybe that is because i put some big detailed fillers that you may not rly care about but i had fun writing regardless LMAO... anyways, ricky & nini are my soft and awkward babies i love them... more importantly, today's also the day where the cast meets up at slc i believe which means season 2, here we come :D


	4. iv.

**STILL 8 WEEKS UNTIL THE PLAY.**

Ricky’s struggling. He’s very much self-aware as his eyes twitch, nearly burning a hole into each and every worksheet handed to him in that week. Luckily for him, the teacher had a lenient policy when it came to turning in assignments, and he was able to have enough time to ask Nini about questions concerning anything that came up that afternoon. 

He’s nervous just thinking about it.

Sure, he and Nini have talked more and more as days go past, but being in her house and possibly meeting her parents and seeing her room and every little thing about her… He was nervous. It felt ridiculously intimate, and for someone like Ricky who’s had little experience in romance in general—his first kiss attributed to pairs of too chapped lips in a single awkward peck—he feels out of place just even thinking about it.

For one, his only real friend has been Red over the course of the years. He’s not unfriendly, and he doesn’t think that he’s in any form unattractive either, but when you’re attempting to get into the college of your dreams with a set path since elementary school, there seemed to be no room for anything outside of clammy hand holding and Chemistry tests.

He takes a glance at his phone, chewing absently on his lip as he sees the time slowly ticking down until practice starts. He’s gotten a lot more used to it, the whole kissing tape and removing it fast enough so you don’t feel pain thing, but his heart feels heavy thinking about the plans after.

So, yes, it’s been on his mind since he first asked for Nini’s help. He’d feel embarrassed if it were anyone else but recalling the look on Nini’s face, the one without bias nor too much sympathy, he thinks he made the right choice. No, he knows he did. 

Another quick look. 10 minutes. 

It goes by faster than he hopes. 

One last peek before the timer runs out.

A _Have fun at Nini’s :)_ text greets him.

His face falls faster than his mind can process. 

Of course. Red did tell him a couple of weeks ago that he had a doctor’s appointment that upcoming day—something about rashes on feet or smelly armpits, he doesn’t remember—and he did forget all about it until the message knocked him straight back to reality.

Not only was he going to be spending the afternoon after the practice with Nini, but he was going to be spending the afternoon during the practice with her too.

As he contemplates this, the bell rings and announces his departure. With a final inhale, he picks up his things and makes his way to the theatre room.

His mind is filled with possibilities at this point, in ways that he can make a fool of himself in a single day and become the joke of the school after events of the afternoon begin to unfold. If he did manage to screw up to that point, he’s positive that Nini would keep it silent but there’s nothing that can convince his mind otherwise.

Too much thinking isn’t a good thing, and Ricky’s figured that out at this point.

He trudges into practice, fingers gripped onto his backpack like he couldn’t let go, and barely gets two steps in when he sees Carlos making a beeline towards him.

“Ricky!” the boy exclaims, hands clasping in front of his chest with a smile. “Glad you could make it.”

As if he was even allowed to miss a practice.

“Anyways, what I wanted to talk to you about was—” he gestures him over to the props table, “—Nini couldn’t make it to practice today, so I’ll just review some of your lines with you by yourself.”

What? Nini wasn’t here? 

Where could she be?

She never misses practice. Never.

If she was going to miss practice, what about their study session after school?

How was he supposed to bring his grade up?

Did she stand him up?

Was this on purpose?

“Ricky…?” It’s a hesitant call and Ricky blinks out of his anxious state to meet the junior’s eyes. 

“Oh, yes. That would be okay. Yeah, that’s fine.” He manages to say, nerves practically boiling in his skin as his fingers itch to get at his phone. 

He doesn’t think he has enough time to send a quick question to the girl, especially not when Carlos is staring at him with an awkward scrunch of his lips.

So, he urges himself through practice, throat dry but maintaining a steady job delivering words and tones that he’s familiar with. 

Carlos shoots him a small thumbs up when it wraps up, and his hands rummage through his backpack to take out his cellphone. 

_Hey_ , he types out. Backspaces. Types again. Deletes. Exits out of iMessage completely. Opens it up again.

_Hey!_

No, way too excited. She’ll think he’s weird.

_Hi._

Now he’s too serious. What is this? Some sort of company email? RSVP or what?

 _Hey_ , he sends before the regret can get to him.

It comes immediately after. 

_You weren’t at practice._

No dip, Sherlock. 

Maybe he should start second guessing himself again.

_Do I still come over?_

He sounds like a complete idiot. But it’s too late to take it back, too late to shift his phone onto airplane mode because his eyes widen when he sees his Delivered texts turn into Read texts. 

He swallows.

 _Yes!_ is the immediate response back. _Do you need my address?_

That would be nice, he says to himself, shaking his head.

_Yeah._

_Okay, give me a second! I’ll forward a pic._

\--

Seconds after Nini screenshots her address and sends it to him, she takes a step back to admire her room. In the time that she wasn’t at practice, she’d managed to tidy up the entire house to the point where her moms would applaud her the second they got home. Not after a couple of questions, though.

For example, when did she do it? Immediately after school. Why did she do it? Because the house was a mess and Ricky was coming over. Who’s Ricky? My leading actor in the play. So, you skipped practice to impress him? Well…

She doesn’t answer that question in the hypothetical interview, cheeks beginning to flush at the implication. She’d rehearse it a couple of more times for perfection, making sure there were no loopholes when the time arrived.

They were both at work, anyways, and their schedules were pretty much consistent year-round minus a couple of early homecomings or even some late ones, depending on whether or not they planned a date night later. 

She had plenty of time, really.

So, did she really ditch school and the play just to tidy up her house for a boy to see? Of course not. That wasn’t the original plan, actually.

She didn’t attend practice because she wanted to buy groceries in case anyone got hungry later, and believe her, she’d already checked all the cupboards that morning.

Think of it as planning ahead. 

The school wasn’t too far from her house, definitely capable of walking to and from without any trouble, and a car would certainly get there in little less than 10 minutes. She’s seen Ricky’s car, as well, so it’s not like he’ll show up barefoot and thirsty to her front door.

As planned, a couple of minutes go by and she can hear the sounds of tires coming to a stop in the driveway. She makes her way down the stairs, opening the door before he got the chance to ring the doorbell. 

He looks taken aback, lanyard almost swinging from his hand as he blinks with widened eyes. “Oh, hey.” 

“Hey!” She says, opening the door to give him enough room to enter. He takes the gesture without a word, slipping his shoes off and entering. 

Her lips purse as she follows him around, watching him eye every corner in the house. It’s not everyday that a stranger invites you into their home. 

“So,” he finally says after his little wild goose chase, “where are we studying? The living room?”

“My room, actually. It’s upstairs. Up here.” She points to the stairs, beckoning him to come with her. He does, and they both walk into her room where she settles on her newly made bed sheets. He stands awkwardly at the door frame, rocking on the balls of his feet. 

“You can sit, you know? Make yourself comfortable. We have to start soon, anyways. Unless you only wanted to scout my house from the inside and the outside.” She gives a small smile to him, which he returns with a roll of his eyes. He obliges, though, finding a seat beside her.

“Yeah, yeah. You know that’s not what I’m here for.” He says, unzipping his backpack and taking out his binder. “Are you ready?”

“More like, are _you_ ready? I don’t think you’ve ever experienced Nini study time, except for your interruption in the library. And that doesn’t count.” 

He gives her a sheepish look, slightly apologetic. “Forgot about that. Not really, but blocking it out of my memory for the sheer sake of my ego.”

“Your ego stops you from asking for help?”

“Something like that.”

She stares at him, an unreadable expression on her face. “Yet you asked.”

“My pride’s not stronger than my determination.”

“I like that.”

He looks up from his papers to grin at her, eyes twinkling.

She clears her throat, breaking gazes with him to take a look at what he has in his hands. “How do you usually study?”

“I don’t.” It’s a blunt response, but it’s the truth. “Well, I look over things once or twice but I don’t study. Not in the way that you’re thinking.”

“And you got this far without studying for one second?”

“I guess so.”

Nini narrows her eyes, shaking her head. “Looks like you’re going to start today. So, you review things and that helps you?”

“You could say that.”

“Let’s do notecards.”

“I don’t have any on me… Would Quizlet work?” It’s supposed to be a witty quip but with the way that she’s looking at him, he doesn’t think she sees the joke. “Just kidding.”

“No, Quizlet does work. But I have notecards around here somewhere, if you need.” She steps up from the bed, opening a couple of drawers before extending a hand to reveal a set of rainbow index cards as promised. 

He takes them, thumb pressed onto the plastic wrap of the outside. “Thanks.”

“Now, just write down the terms that you need on one side and the definition on the other.”

“I know, I know.”

“Just making sure, considering you’ve never done this in your life.”

“I’ve watched others.” He replies, taking two cards out of the pack and a pen.

“Nuh-uh. All the terms.”

He gives her a side glance before taking half of the stack, a low grumble escaping him. He sees the smile form on her lips as she hears his silent complaints, and he shakes his head.

When she said she was going to help him, she meant every single word of it.

\--

It’s been two grueling hours of memorization before Ricky lets out a prolonged exhale.

“Do you need a break?” Nini glances up from the notecard in her hand, one she’s recited about fifty billion times since he’d first written everything down. Because he hadn’t done any homework since the start of the week, he had a lot of catching up to do.

He nods, standing up to stretch his limbs. “That would be absolutely lovely.”

“No dramatic antics, please. Let’s go to the kitchen. I bought groceries, so there’s plenty to go around.”

“I’ll pay you back,” he says as he makes his way to their destination, bouncing lightly on the stairs. 

“Yeah, no.” She replies, and as he turns around to object, she sticks her tongue out before he can get a word in. 

“You are… something else.” is all he says as he enters the kitchen. 

“And you aren’t?” She opens the fridge, taking out two containers of juice. “Apple or orange?”

“I’m an orange juice type of guy.”

“Freak.” 

“You asked!” He says in an exasperated manner, hands thrown to his side to defend his choice.

Nini sets the orange juice on the table, sliding it towards him as she keeps the other for herself. “I also judged. Granola bars? Pancakes? French fries? We’ve even got a microwaveable meal, if you want.”

“You’re acting like you’ve been starving me for a day.” He says after a sip of his drink. “A granola bar would be okay.”

She opens a cabinet to reveal three boxes. “Do you have a favorite?”

“Peanut butter is okay.”

“You’re actually crazy.” She comments, opening the box of granola bars to toss him the flavor he’d asked for. 

“Are you going to say something about everything I choose?” 

“Just eat your peanut butter bar.”

“Whatever you say.” Ricky grins, taking a big bite.

She makes a face, giving him a thumbs down before lugging a big bag of frozen fries to an air fryer plugged up in the corner. 

“I love those things.” He points with his half-eaten granola bar. “Makes life so much easier.”

“Right?” she agrees, wholeheartedly, taking a second to preheat it before turning back to him. “I’m not much of a chef, so it’s been a lot of help. Have you ever had Korean cheese corndogs?”

“I have not. They sound good, though.”

“Okay, wait.” 

She looks through the freezer this time, taking out another small box. “It’s not the real deal, but it certainly tastes good.” 

She pops a frozen corndog in, accompanied with a couple handful of fries, before turning the air fryer on for 15 minutes.

“Is that for me?”

“Duh, who else?”

“I dunno. Maybe some other cute guy at your school that’s named Ricky Bowen.”

“Gross.”

“You’re mean, did you know that?”

“Surprisingly enough, that’s the first time I’ve heard that.” 

Before he can respond, there’s a sound at the door. They both look up in surprise, and Nini inches her way outside of the kitchen to inspect what’s going on. Ricky stands up, crumpling his wrapper and tossing it in the corner bin, to follow suit.

“Nini, hello!” It’s an unfamiliar voice that greets Nini. Well, at least unfamiliar to Ricky, that is. 

“Hi mom, hi mama!”

_Oh._

Ricky’s about to meet the family.

“How was your day? And, hello, who’s this young man?” 

Ricky’s been spotted. He gives a small smile, lifting a hand in a stiff manner. Nini and her moms are staring at him with amusement and he sees Nini urge him to introduce himself. “Oh, I’m Ricky. Ricky Bowen.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Ricky Bowen. You can call me Carol. And this is Dana.” Carol says with a warm smile, one that Dana mirrors with a wave. “What’re you here for?”

“Uh. Nini was helping me study, actually.” 

“He’s also acting in the play with me!” Nini chirps up in the background, and all eyes turn to her.

Dana’s mouth is slightly open and she begins to nod. “Is that so? Are you Brady, then? With Nini’s McKenzie? Oh… how cute.” 

The two moms exchange a not-so-secretive look, and Ricky and Nini flush almost immediately. 

“I am Brady, yeah…” He stammers, scratching at his neck. He’s completely red at this point. Or, at least, he feels it. 

“How cute, indeed.” Carol echoes, lifting an eyebrow as she takes small glances at the two kids. 

“Mom!” 

“We’ll be heading into our room now. You guys can stay here. Alone. Or go upstairs. Alone.” 

“Mom…” Another groan.

Ricky bites back a smile, finishing off his orange juice. “I think I’m ready to finish studying now.”

“I’ll bring the food upstairs. You go first.” She rolls her eyes, the embarrassment slowly escaping her.

All Carol and Dana do is giggle to themselves before leaving as promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL an update 7 months later... sorry, i was in the shower! on a real note, just kind of phased out of hsmtmts in general but i was thinking about this story and decided to see where i'd left off! surprisingly enough, i got a little inspo sooooo here you go <3 i promise that i'll manage to finish it One Day


End file.
